


It was a lover and his lass

by vasilysa



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Over the Knee, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, i’m sweating how else do I tag this, lizzie you've really done it this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23081998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vasilysa/pseuds/vasilysa
Summary: Elizabeth decides to pay her husband James a visit at the fort.You can read this as a related story to my other fic, Never Doubt I Love, but it can be a stand-alone story where James and Elizabeth are married.
Relationships: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Comments: 18
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

In Elizabeth’s defense, her intentions while visiting James at the fort had been entirely pure—at least they _were,_ initially.

She had simply wanted to surprise her husband of one year with lunch at work, as any loving wife might.

James Norrington was a man devoted to his work—an understatement if ever there was one. Sometimes it would be five in the afternoon before he ate his first meal of the day, something that vexed both Elizabeth and their matronly housekeeper. So she took it upon herself to visit him at the fort, imagining the heartwarming smile he would give her when she arrived in his office.

She was not disappointed.

When one of the lieutenants let Elizabeth into the room, James looked up from his stack of papers and positively _bloomed_. “Elizabeth,” he said, clearly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

She walked through the immaculate office and set down a basket of meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit on the large walnut table. “I thought you might like a break from work,” she offered with a winning smile, and she thought James’ returning expression might split his face in two. For a rather imposing military man, he was…adorable, at times, she reflected. There really was no other word for it. “And I know you have a tendency to miss meals.”

“Ah, I’ve been found out,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye that caused her heart to flutter a little. He stood up and wrapped her in his arms—after making sure the lieutenant had left the office and shut the door behind him, of course. James was a stickler for propriety at the fort, something that simultaneously amused and annoyed Elizabeth to no end.

She pulled back from his embrace and tilted her face up to his, capturing his lips with her own. James hesitated but after a moment he gave in—he almost always did—and cradled her face with his large hands, caressing her mouth with the diligence of one who truly loved her.

He wouldn’t let it continue for long, though, and Elizabeth had just started running her hands along the front of his coat when he pulled away and halted her hands. “None of that,” he admonished gently. “I’m at work. What if someone comes in unexpectedly?”

She pouted and, as he bent over the table to inspect the meal she had brought him, resolved that they would absolutely be having _more of that_. But when he straightened to hand her a soft piece of French bread with garlic butter, she schooled her features into innocence and accepted the food from him, gladly.

* * *

“Well, this has been lovely,” James began, and Elizabeth knew he was about to send her back home. Well, she wasn’t one of his subordinates. She would not be dismissed, no matter how politely he did it.

“It has, hasn’t it?” She agreed in a deceptively sweet voice.

James was seated in the fine, sturdy chair, finished in walnut to match his desk. He was looking wistfully out the window, no doubt measuring the position of the sun in the sky and wondering when he could return home to her; at least, she hoped he was.

She took advantage of his distraction to plop herself in his lap.

He turned immediately, his dark eyebrows rising sharply. “Elizabeth, this is hardly proper,” he said sternly, but he was trying not to laugh.

“Only _hardly?_ I shall be more explicit with my wishes, then,” she mused, pressing her body closely against his. He watched her warily as she planted little kisses along his throat. She ground against his groin just a little, but it was enough to make him grip her hips to force her to stop.

“That’s enough,” he said, a forbidden gleam in his eyes.

Elizabeth had seen that look a few times before and she relished it. So she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

He didn’t fight her, but she could feel his reluctance. When he parted her lips tentatively with his tongue, she sighed into his mouth. Before she realized what she was doing, her hand was traveling down his breeches to stroke the hardening outline between his legs.

He gasped and pulled back as if she had slapped him. He flushed and she couldn’t help but smirk.

“Elizabeth, I will attend to your needs as soon as I am home, but _my office_ is not the place for such trysts.” Defiantly, she rubbed against his hips again, seeking more friction between their bodies.

“No,” she argued in a velvety soft voice, enjoying the conflict in his lovely green eyes. “Now. I want you now, James.”

He looked…pained. She smoothed the crease that formed in his forehead when he was fighting a battle with himself. She stroked the shadow of his stubble that was just beginning to form, enjoying the bristling texture beneath her soft hands. He was fighting a losing battle, she knew. She could see it in his eyes. He glanced at the desk behind them and wet his lips, and she wondered if he was also imagining the _delicious_ scenario of him bending her over it. She had a feeling he had entertained that fantasy before, though he would not admit it. She decided it was an excellent time to bring it up. “Don’t you want me, James?” She murmured against the shell of his ear, enjoying the warmth of his skin. She loved to make him blush. “I promise, if you bend me over this table, I shall be very quiet, I shan’t say a word, but I _need_ your touch, James, I _need_ it.” For emphasis, she slipped her left hand into his breeches and squeezed his cock.

Of course, at that moment, the decrepit old doorknob to his office rattled, and they both startled. James attempted to foist his wife out of his lap, but, giggling, she pushed him back and retreated under the desk instead.

“ _What the devil are you doing?_ ” He hissed, and now the amusement was gone from his face, and she knew she should behave but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She heard a voice—one of the Marines, Pittman or Johnson or something—from the front of the room, briefing James on a minor debacle down at the harbor. Normally, she would have eavesdropped—she liked knowing the goings-on of Port Royal—but she found herself rather distracted.

The underbelly of the desk was fairly spacious but she had to kneel to keep from bumping her head and she found herself at eye level with James’ breeches, which had begun to seem a little tight given her earlier ministrations.

A positively devilish thought occurred to her.

As the two men discussed the issue, her clever fingers reached between his legs to unbutton his trousers.

James stiffened noticeably under her fingers, and his expression must have been extraordinary, because the Marine inquired, “Sir? Are you alright?”

“Quite alright,” James managed, although his voice was not as steady as it usually was.

Elizabeth bit back a gleeful cackle.

She had almost managed to free his cock from his trousers when one of James’ hands appeared under the desk, clutching her wrist in a vice-like grip. It would look strange if both of his hands were beneath the desk while he was making such a peculiar expression, she reasoned, so she decided to use her other hand.

His swollen cock sprang free and she stroked up and down the length of him with her free hand.

He inhaled sharply, and said, “Apologies, Pittman, I seem to be coming down with a slight illness.”

“You do look a little feverish, sir,” the Marine agreed, and Elizabeth pressed her mouth into her shoulder to keep from laughing, as both of her hands were occupied. “Perhaps you should retire for the day? We’ll manage, I assure you.”

“That's not necessary, I’ll be fine,” he returned in a gravelly voice that did mischief to her insides. She _loved_ that voice, and she wondered if his arousal was as plain to Pittman as it was to her.

In for a penny, in for a pound, she reckoned.

She adjusted her posture so that her day frock cushioned her knees from the hard wooden floorboards and swept her hair behind her shoulders. James had still not released her right hand, so she used her left hand on his upper thigh to balance herself as she leaned forward and wickedly licked up and down his shaft.

James’ grip tightened on her wrist until it was almost painful. He seemed to realize this and released her almost as soon as he had grabbed her. His hand vanished above the table and she imagined it was just clenched next to a pile of papers, helpless to stop her. For once she started, she knew even James’ restraint was not infinite.

Delighted with his acquiescence, she pressed a kiss to his head, sucking just a little bit.

James gave the tiniest groan but managed to cover it with a cough.

Pittman was undoubtedly feeling a little uncomfortable, she reflected.

James must have read her mind, because he added, “Thank you for the update, Pittman. If you don’t mind, I have some—ah—matters to attend to.” He stuttered over _matters_ as Elizabeth, with her own matters to attend to, took him into her mouth as far as she could.

“Yes, sir.” She heard a click of military boots and the opening and closing of the door.

Alone, again.

James pushed his chair back just a little, and she reluctantly relinquished him with a vulgar-sounding _pop._

The expression on his face was almost comical, _thunderous_ with anger that she would dare do such a thing to him when they could both be caught, and undeniable lust. His hand caught her chin, forcing her grinning, unrepentant expression up to his. “What if we were discovered just now?” He growled, and the heat in his voice made goosebumps rise across her skin.

“I know you would defend my reputation,” she said in a sultry voice, leaning forward again to take his cock back into her mouth. She sucked hard and he swore, his hands moving down to her shoulders to grip her, none too gently.

“That’s just it, Elizabeth,” he ground out. “I can’t go around shooting random Marines because they happened to lay eyes on you while you were—while you were—”

“Sucking your cock?” She asked innocently, pulling back for just a moment to gauge his expression before resuming her task.

James _groaned_ and for a moment, she almost felt pity for him.

Almost.

Now he wasn’t fighting back. His hands fisted in her hair as she moved her lips up and down his shaft, closing her eyes and getting into the rhythm. She couldn’t fit him all the way so she used her right hand to close around his base, squeezing and stroking.

He was close. His thighs were trembling and she felt a powerful rush that she had the ability to reduce the Scourge of Piracy to such a wanton state. How she loved to torment this sweet man.

She picked up her pace and his hands gently pulled her hair back, keeping them from tickling her nose while she worked. “Elizabeth,” he said breathlessly, and she knew he was about to come.

“Come for me,” she commanded, withdrawing for just a moment and looking up at him with fierce eyes. “Come for me, my love.”

With a moan, he nudged her head back down and she opened her mouth greedily, taking him in just as he burst upon her tongue with a muffled curse.

She sank back onto her heels with a satisfied grin, wiping away the mess from her mouth as she looked up at him with a fiendish gleam in her eyes.

James looked…beautiful.

His knees were splayed apart helplessly and he slumped against the back of his chair, eyes closed in the aftermath of his release. That noble chest rose and fell rapidly and only after another minute was he able to reach down and button his breeches with a shaking hand.

Then he reached for her and pulled her into his lap, careful not to bump her head on the overhang of the desk.

“You are the most wicked woman I have ever met in my life,” he murmured against her neck, and when he looked up at her, his gaze was feverish. “I ought to punish you for that.”

Elizabeth laughed, straightening her skirts. “I think you ought to be _thanking_ me,” she teased, although his words sent a thrill through her body. She was feeling more than a little pent up herself and she wondered what exactly he meant by that.

He moved to kiss her then, never mind what her mouth had just been doing, and she felt a surge of love for him. Most men—so she had heard—would not do such a thing, but James did not seem to mind. She smiled against his lips and wondered again how she had almost passed up the opportunity to marry this delightfully contradictory man.

But he would not kiss her for too long. Firmly, he nudged her out of his lap so that she stood over him. He pressed a kiss against her belly—flat still, although she knew he wanted children—and looked up at her, a dangerous look in his eyes. “Mark my words, my girl, I will not let you get away with this,” he warned her. “There is a time and a place for these things, and—”

“And you enjoyed it and you well know it,” she interrupted, smug and self-assured.

His eyes narrowed and he stood up, towering over her.

She raised an eyebrow and simply smiled.

“Yes,” he admitted slowly. “Yes, I am unable to resist your teasing, it is true. But I intend to get even with you when I get home.” The words were spoken close to her ear and he nipped at the tender skin where her baby hairs met her neck and she yelped. After that, he firmly escorted her out of the office, after making sure no one was around to see her leave—her hair was rather mussed, after all, but she looked presentable other than that.

As Elizabeth prepared to return to the Norrington manor, she began to think that this was one of her finer exploits, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James has a few words for Elizabeth about her sense of timing (or lack thereof).

Escorting Elizabeth out of his office after _that_ little escapade was possibly the most difficult thing James had ever done. He very much wanted to take her up on her offer to bend her over the table but he also knew that Elizabeth was not quiet in anything she did, no matter what she said to the contrary, and _she_ knew that her lustful cries only drove him wilder with passion. The minx. No matter how little she claimed to care about her reputation, he would not reduce her status by bedding her so publicly. Married couples weren’t supposed to _kiss_ in public all that often, let alone…the behavior she had exhibited earlier.

Clearly, he was neglecting his wife if she felt the need to come into his workplace and carry on in such a manner. He could not allow himself to put words to the act, even in his mind. It was too coarse, too vulgar, and although Elizabeth was not a stranger to this kind of pleasure, he rarely asked it of her. Somehow, that only seemed to encourage her to try it more often.

He should have said no. He should not have let her take things as far as she did. And yet…he slumped in his chair, viewing the navigation charts spread over his desk without really seeing them--they were now about as comprehensible to him as Urdu. The sight of her on her knees had been so _enticing_ , so deliciously inappropriate, as she looked up at him with those enormous shining eyes, wrapping her full lips around him. James swallowed around the lump in his throat, feeling himself become aroused again. Really, what was he to do with that girl? She had absolutely no sense of propriety—it was something he secretly relished about her even as it vexed him—but _he_ did and he ought to have known better. 

That smirk and self-assured expression in her confident, almost arrogant, gaze told him that she knew _exactly_ what she was about. That was precisely the trouble. It was challenging to get the upper hand with his mischievous wife. If he retaliated in kind, that only encouraged her to act out more. In some less generous moments, he had considered putting her over his knee and informing her, quite sternly, that there were consequences for her fairly _erratic_ behavior. But those too were only idle fantasies, tempting as they were. At the very least, he reasoned they would be having a talk about her poor sense of timing. She would no doubt tease him for being so stuffy but he would make her see sense. He _would._

And then he would make her scream his name until she begged him to let her come. It seemed like a fair reprisal for this afternoon.

* * *

When James arrived back at the manor, it was quite late. Gillette and Groves had invited him out for one drink that had turned into a few drinks. Ah, well. Elizabeth would not begrudge him that. She was always encouraging him to spend more time with his friends. “Only thirty and such a recluse,” she would tease. Well, now that he had her for company, he found himself increasingly reluctant to leave the manor. He would have been perfectly content to stay in bed with her all day if his career had allowed for it. Which it didn’t.

He doffed his hat and left it on the coatrack in the entrance to the dimly lit building and set off in search for his wife. The ground floor was mostly dark; the butler greeted him when he entered but the rest of the staff had retired for the evening. The moonlight from the bay windows showed him into the passageway that led to the study where they loved to read together on Saturday mornings. She could be in bed, but that was unlikely; as much as she liked to lay abed in the mornings, she preferred to stay up at night, like a cat. He always checked this room first.

In fact, the focus of his thoughts was curled in a distinctly cat-like manner in one of the two armchairs in the little den, reading a novel with the title _“Clarissa”_ embossed on the front. Sitting opposite the candlestick, her fine features were hidden in shadow, but the flickering lights cast a soft golden glow on her nearly translucent gown and bare feet which kicked restlessly below. She heard him enter, but she waited until she was finished with her sentence to greet him before dog-earing her page and setting the book aside.

She rose to her feet with an enormous grin that made him smile in spite of himself as she threw her arms about his neck. “Home at last,” she said happily.

She was, as always, a most fetching sight. Despite his frequent pleading—or perhaps because of it—she had taken to wearing her nightgown in the evening around the house regardless of whether or not the servants saw (they always averted their eyes, not that she cared a jot). Her golden hair was tied in a loose, thick braid over one shoulder and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Was she merely anticipating his arrival, or something else? His eyes darted suspiciously to the book in her hands. She liked racy novels, he knew, but this one looked innocent enough. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled up at him and his heart softened, the scoldings that rose to the tip of his tongue dissipating immediately. “Did you have a pleasant day at work?” She asked, unable to hide her grin.

James, who had been holding her quite tightly in his arms, pulled back from her to frown a little. “Elizabeth…” He began, a warning note in his voice.

She cackled gleefully, those lovely eyes flashing with merriment. “ _I_ certainly had a pleasant day,” she said with a giggle, her hands running along the front of his tailored shirt hungrily. She popped the top button loose from the gold embroidery of his coat. She really enjoyed his full uniform attire; it was one of the reasons he waited to take it off until they went to bed for the evening. She ran her hands along the stiff fabric of his sleeves, admiring the firm muscles underneath. “You know, you look quite dashing, but this—” -she reached up to unpin his wig- “—must go, darling.” With the offensive article in her left hand, she ran her free hand through his dark hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

He kissed her back, wondering how to go about this conversation. He knew she would tease him mercilessly, but he had to try. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, just a bit.

Her fine eyebrows slanted down over her eyes disapprovingly at his mild discouragement. “Well, I hope you aren’t too tired, dear husband,” she said archly. “I had my own plans for you this evening.”

“Elizabeth, what we did today…I can’t allow that to happen again,” he started and she scoffed a little.

_Wicked girl._

He had expected that reaction but it made his temper flare all the same.

“We didn’t get caught,” she reminded him, attempting to slip her hands under his coat and divest him of his commodore’s jacket. “You were very good. Barely made a peep.” She looked up at him with a devious smile and James beat back a blush. Honestly, what kind of man blushed like a schoolboy in front of his own wife? But Lord, the things she said! _Good_ , indeed!

He caught her fine-boned wrist in one of his much larger hands. She attempted to use the other to continue removing his outerwear, and with a sigh, he grabbed that one too, holding them in front of his chest.

Her stance was that of a penitent but her expression was anything but. She looked up at him over her clasped hands and smirked. “Why are you fussing, James? You enjoyed it, I enjoyed it. We are both adults. We don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

“You know, occasionally it might _behoove_ you to consider the societal implications of your actions,” he informed her, running his thumb along the pulse point of her left wrist. He lifted it to his lips, kissing the tender skin to soften the blow of his stern words.

“I _have_ considered them and I have found them quite unappealing,” came the saucy reply, though she smiled charmingly when he kissed her hands.

“Perhaps I was not clear,” James amended, trying not to glare at her. “It might behoove you to consider them _more carefully_.”

She lifted her chin defiantly and he resigned himself to a dispute, if not an outright fight. Elizabeth was not going to back down from this.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his neck, along his jawline, and finally the tip of his nose. “No,” she said, sweetly, as if she had just politely declined sugar for her tea.

His hands moved to her waist, firmly anchoring her to the ground. “Yes,” he countered, and leaned down to kiss her, hard, before they became entangled in a childish back-and-forth game of yes and no.

Eagerly, she kissed him back, parting her lips with a sigh as she pressed herself against the coarse fabric of his uniform. It must have chafed against her nipples because she yelped a little. He reached out to caress one rosy bud through the diaphanous fabric of her nightgown, eliciting a mewl of pleasure. He sank into the chair and pulled her into his lap, hiking her legs up so that she straddled him. It was a very compromising position and her bare ass was quite possibly exposed to anyone who happened to come into the study. But unlike the bustling fort, the manor was quite still as its residents settled in for the evening.

Elizabeth rubbed her center against the bulge that began to form in his breeches, panting a little against his neck.

“So eager,” he murmured, nipping at her earlobe.

“I have been waiting for you all day,” she confided, her eyes wide and unusually needy.

It was touching.

But James was determined to make her sweat it out a little.

“Waiting for me?” He repeated, slipping a hand between her legs to trace the contours of her body.

She whimpered a little, trying to adjust herself so that she bore down on his fingers, but he moved away, running his hands up the outside of her thighs instead. She growled and bit, just a little, into his neck. 

“Yes,” she said, her brown eyes fierce with want. “And I won’t wait any longer. I want you _now_ , James. Take this off and fu—”

He pulled her in for a kiss, cutting off her filthy mouth. His hands gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise but she didn’t seem to mind. She continued to rock against him, trying to build friction between their bodies.

“Now, now,” he admonished, just a hair’s breadth from those wonderfully full lips. “I don’t think you have been quite good enough for that.”

Her expression was gratifying, to say the least. Her eyebrows shot up her forehead and her pretty pink mouth dropped open in an ‘o’ of surprise. “I—what? James,” she began insistently, not so gently popping off another button. This time it did not come loose willingly but tore the fine thread holding it in place. It flew out of her hands and skittered along the floor. She did not look the least bit sorry. “I want you.” There was a slight note of desperation to her voice that made him feel positively _giddy_.

James looked away from her, following the button with his eyes as it came to a rolling stop before one of the bookcases. “I’m very fond of this uniform, you know,” he teased, but kept his expression deliberately neutral. “You are being quite careless today, Elizabeth.”

Groaning with impatience, she reached down for his trousers, but he stopped her.

“Ah ah, my sweet,” he told her, fighting back a grin at the indignant expression on her face. “You are not in charge tonight.”

His words had a curious effect on her. She watched him carefully and swallowed, betraying her sudden nervousness. He knew, though their chests were several centimeters apart, that her heart was racing. He smiled wolfishly as she queried, uncertainly, “No?”

“No.” He pulled her flush against him, squeezing and kneading her supple flesh as he planted rough kisses along her her long, elegant neck. She sighed prettily and arched against him, the swell of her ass cheeks filling his greedy hands so nicely. “But I will make you come, if you can behave. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

He heard her breath hitch and he pulled back to appraise her. Whether it was his words, spoken in a low voice riddled with desire, or his careful touches all over her body, she was riveted to the spot. He knew he had her.

But it was never that easy with her, was it?

She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “I think…” She licked the shell of his ear and he shuddered, tightening his grip on her supple body. “I think I shall misbehave and make myself come, instead.” He felt her shift against him and her arm disappeared between her legs, no doubt to seek her own pleasure, as she had just threatened.

Oh, no. That would not do.

James seized her hand and turned her body so that she was lying over his knees, her nightgown barely covering her back as the ribbon tying it together came loose at the base of her spine. He pinned the offending hand against her back and caught the other one neatly, pressing down just a little with his forearm to prevent her from moving.

She wriggled in displeasure, trying unsuccessfully to shoot a glare at him over one shoulder. “James, you are being _exceedingly_ difficult today,” she complained. That wriggling over his sensitive groin was doing mischief to his imagination. His eyes raked over the valley between those fine shoulder blades, the narrow circle of her waist, to just above the swell of her small but firm ass. He enclosed both wrists in his right hand and let his left hand slide down her back, tracing her lovely curves from her neck to her calves. She sighed appreciatively and relaxed a little.

“You are sublime,” he said in a husky voice. “My beautiful wife.”

“And yet you won’t even fuck me,” she said sadly, and though he could not see the expression on her face, he imagined it was quite devious. She loved to pluck at his heartstrings. Well, it wouldn’t work this time. “What is it you have planned, exactly?”

He considered his options with a pinned Elizabeth in his lap. He could finger her until she came screaming on his hands. She so loathed not being able to touch him when he teased her like this, and her frustration made that even more irresistible. Then he would carry her off to bed and let her ride him, as she loved to do. He could also shift her so that she sank down onto his cock and bounced in his lap as they chased after their mutual release. He could even take her on the rug of this room--and a very primal part of him wanted nothing more than to lay her gently against the fabric with her wrists pinned beneath him and—not so gently—fuck her until she sang his name.

And yet…

His long fingers drummed along the vertebrae of her spine, stopping just shy of the swell of one cheek. “I believe I said earlier that I ought to punish you,” he murmured, so low that she might not have heard—oh, but she _definitely_ heard.

She inhaled sharply and then, to his surprise, laughed. “You wouldn’t dare,” she said boldly, and attempted to wrestle her hands free of him.

It was, indisputably, a challenge. Fighting words. She did not believe he would do it but she gave him permission to try.

James Norrington had never shied away from a challenge before and he did not intend to start now.

His grip tightened on her as his other hand came down sharply against her backside, eliciting a delightful yelp.

“James!” She exclaimed in astonishment, writhing over his knees.

He rubbed the sting from the afflicted skin, adding, “I did warn you, Elizabeth.” He smacked her ass a second time. “Now, stop that wriggling.”

She didn’t, of course.

He smacked her a third time and slipped a single digit between her upper thighs, grinning at the wetness he found there. “I think you might be enjoying this,” he informed her matter-of-factly, relishing the moan that escaped from her when he pressed just a little against that sensitive nub at the apex of her center.

In response, she bit him. Through the fabric of his trousers, she couldn’t hurt him, but he felt her sink her pearly teeth into his leg all the same and the defiant gesture only roused him further.

He spanked her three times in succession until she stopped fighting him but continued breathing heavily, no doubt contemplating her next move. Again, he rubbed at her clitoris, inquiring casually, “Have you had enough, Elizabeth?” Maybe it was the alcohol from earlier in the evening dimming his senses, but she felt wetter than she ever had been.

She _was_ enjoying this.

“What do you want me to say, James?” She ground out reluctantly, and he chuckled.

“Well, for one, I would like you to see the impracticality of wearing this rather revealing piece around the house,” he confessed, untying the ribbon that held her nightgown together. It fluttered uselessly to her sides, leaving her back and legs entirely exposed.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Perhaps it isn’t the latest fashion but it _is_ comfortable.”

_Smack._

“Alright! I do it because I like to frustrate you!” She cried out.

Her ass was beginning to look distinctly pink from his teasing and he could hear the need in her voice. Well, she could probably feel his arousal poking into her belly, as well.

“I’m aware,” he deadpanned, massaging her ass. She lifted her hips into his touch, murmuring something indistinct. “What was that?” He bent his head over hers, itching to hear what she had to say.

“I want you,” she said weakly, with a little less fire than usual.

_Good_. But not enough.

“I know.” His fingers danced along her spine again, waiting.

“James!” She cried, frustrated. She kicked uselessly but at this angle she was powerless against him.

Oh, it felt _so good_ to be the one unraveling her, for once. “If you want me to stop this, you have only to ask,” he said sweetly, rubbing a teasing finger between her lower lips. He was not a tyrant. He may have had the upper hand, but he would cease his torture of her whenever she could swallow her pride enough to ask.

She practically _sobbed_ in his lap.

“I want—I want—” She tried, struggling with her words as he teased her center mercilessly.

He smacked her reproachfully. “That is hardly appropriate, Elizabeth. You are not in a position to be making demands.”

“James, dammit, you have made your point!” She bit out breathlessly. “I—I—”

“Yes?” Unrelenting.

“Please.” Whisper-soft, so soft he could pretend not to hear.

“Did you say something?” His cock was straining against his breeches and he felt more than a little hot himself. Seeing Elizabeth so completely undone was testing his restraint, but he wanted to make her work for it, to feel a little of the powerlessness he felt so often around her.

“Please, James. I will try to behave...a little. But please fuck me. Please.” The words escaped from her like a sigh and James did not give her a moment to recover, slipping two fingers inside her and stroking her aggressively.

She wailed his name and he released her wrists, but she only clutched at his legs, gasping as she bucked against his hand. “God, James, I need to come. _Please_ , James,” she groaned, beside herself with need.

Well, she _had_ asked, and he loved hearing those words from her needy mouth. He stroked at the sensitive spot against her front wall until she shuddered and collapsed over his legs with gasping little breaths.

When she stilled a little, he gently pulled her upright, cradling her in his lap. He kissed her hair and studied her expression.

It was incredible, how she had the power to take his breath away no matter what.

Her face was a healthy pink, that braid had come almost completely undone, and the wild look in her eyes had only somewhat dimmed. She huffed out a little breath and moved to snuggle against him, pressing her naked self against the stiff cotton of his clothing.

“Are you alright?” He asked, gently taking her chin in his hand and studying her. She seemed to enjoy his roughness but he had to be sure.

She gave a shaky laugh. “Yes, James. I was…surprised but…” Incredulously, he watched as she blushed—she almost never blushed—and averted her eyes, fiddling with her hands in her lap. “I rather liked it.”

He laughed, but it was entirely free of malice or judgement. “Saucy girl,” he said affectionately, rubbing his thumb over her smiling mouth.

“Yes,” she admitted, leaning in to steal a kiss. “And you like it.”

“I do,” he agreed. Her sudden shift in weight made him groan a little bit, and she smirked, just a tiny bit.

“Perhaps it is time to retire to our bedroom, husband?”

“I think you are quite right, wife.”

She laughed merrily as he stood, scooping her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He loved to carry her like this but she seldom let him. “I’m not done making you come just yet.”

She licked her lips hungrily and the sight almost caused him to stumble and bring both of them crashing to the unforgiving floorboards. It was a promise, he reckoned, she no doubt intended to make him keep—this night and every night. It was one he intended to honor for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was shamelessly filthy, I'm embarrassed to post this frankly, BUT I maintain that James has a domestic discipline kink--that he seldom acts on--and @HolmesFan is the only other one wise enough to see it--and this catastrophe of a chapter is for you.
> 
> As always, I love hearing from y'all. I hope this piece of smut is up to snuff, so to speak!

**Author's Note:**

> .......I have nothing to say in my defense, just that this idea has been tormenting me almost as much as Elizabeth torments James.
> 
> To all of you who have been HOUNDING me (I love it) for smut for the other Norribeth fic, here you go.
> 
> It was a lover and his lass--apparently, I referenced Shakespeare again without being fully aware of it. Anyway, here is where the title comes from: [ It was a lover and his lass ](https://kellyrfineman.livejournal.com/541881.html)


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